Part 2 (1/2)
”Now, there's a thought, indeed,” Gaspar mused. ”Tradition would have it that Joseph of Arimathea journeyed to England after the Resurrection, and founded the community of Glas...o...b..ry at a site which our Lord Himself once visited as a boy. If there is any truth in legend, Glas...o...b..ry would certainly be a fitting place to build a new Temple, in fulfillment of prophecy.”
”That would depend,” said Arnault, ”on what kind of man Edward Plantagenet has become in twenty years' time.”
”He has proven himself to be a strong and able king,” said Geoffrey.
”True-but the exercise of power can corrupt even the most virtuous of men,” Arnault replied. His thoughts turned to Scotland. The question of the Scottish succession had been referred to Edward for arbitration, but there was clear evidence that the English king meant to exploit that situation to his own territorial advantage, as he had done when negotiating the marriage between his son and the ill-fated Maid.
”By all accounts,” he continued, ”Edward does not lightly tolerate anything which might pose a challenge to his authority. The danger is that, having granted the Order sanctuary, he might well attempt to bend it to his will. Failing this, he would certainly try to destroy it. Knowing what the stakes are,” he concluded, ”can we afford to put Edward's good will to the test without some clear indication that this really is our best choice?”
This question provoked another round of debate. Further discussion, however, brought no resolution.
”All we're doing is chasing our tails around in a circle,” Geoffrey growled. ”The only thing we can say for certain is that all the choices before us seem equally doubtful.”
”Well, we have to do something,” Father Anselmo pointed out.
”I agree,” said Geoffrey, ”even if it means making the best of a bad lot.”
After a long pause, Gaspar finally spoke. ”Logic is no guide here. What we require is a sign. The safety of the Treasures is too important to be ventured on the strength of a guess. When we act, it must be because we are sure. And the only way to be sure is to seek guidance from a higher authority-by a means more direct than prayer.”
Father Anselmo looked alarmed. ”What are you suggesting?”
A glint appeared in Gaspar's dark eyes. ”Amongst the artifacts in our custody are objects which possess oracular virtues. I propose that we choose the one which is most closely aligned with our own affinities and avail ourselves of its powers of divination.”
An uncomfortable silence deepened as all eyes darted to the two priests.
”This is a dangerous proposition,” Father Bertrand warned. ”We hold these objects in trust for the good of the world. To utilize one purely for our own benefit would be a serious breach of our vocation.”
”I would suggest that this is not a personal matter,” Gaspar said confidently. ”An error in our judgment now could result in the Treasures being lost-or worse, falling into the wrong hands. We cannot afford to make a mistake that would put the welfare of future generations at risk. Under the circ.u.mstances, I think we are fully justified in availing ourselves of the means at hand.”
The silence that followed was still uncertain. As the silence drew itself out, Arnault ventured to speak.
”When it comes to discerning the workings of the Spirit,” he observed quietly, ”we are like blind men stumbling along the edge of a precipice. Surely it is no crime for a blind man to use a stick to help him find his way? By the same token, surely it is no crime for us to use one of the tools in our keeping to help us avoid falling into the abyss. Gaspar has rightly interpreted the gravity of our situation. I recommend that we act on his advice.”
He flashed a look around the table, and was relieved to encounter nods of acceptance.
”My thanks for your support in this matter,” Gaspar said. ”For as G.o.d Himself is my witness, I truly believe that there is no other way.”
He went on to lay before them the procedure he had in mind. The adoption of the plan was confirmed by a further vote. Having named himself and Father Bertrand as two of the three partic.i.p.ants needed for the work, Gaspar turned lastly to Arnault.
”I appreciate that you have just returned from an arduous mission, but of all of us, you possess the greatest apt.i.tude for what I have proposed,” he observed gravely. ”You have also worked with the artifact before. Will you consent to serve as the medium for the exercise in divination?”
Arnault inclined his head in a.s.sent, for whatever the cost, whether physical or psychic, there could be no question of refusing-not when the request came from Gaspar, who had been his mentor, had brought him into le Cercle when hardly older than Torquil.
”Such gifts as I have, I place at the service of the Temple and of G.o.d,” he said, then smiled faintly. ”But if you intend me to do this tonight, may I have a few hours' sleep first?”
”Of course,” Gaspar replied, with a faint smile of his own. ”And I do think we dare not delay.” He cast his gaze over the rest of the company.
”I have already advised the Grand Master that it will take a few days to prepare the inventory he requires, and to separate out those treasures designated to be sold. But our other work will proceed tonight. The sooner we know where we stand, the better equipped we will be to face the future.”
Chapter Four.
WHEN ARNAULT FAILED TO APPEAR AT VESPERS, TORQUIL Lennox was mildly curious but not unduly concerned. When he failed to show up for supper, however, the Scottish knight began to wonder what could have happened to detain him.
In general, a brother of the Order was allowed to absent himself from meals and sacred offices only if he was engaged in some practical endeavor that could not readily be interrupted, such as shoeing a horse or working metal at a forge. Otherwise, his absence required special permission from a superior-which Gaspar des Macquelines, as a senior treasurer of the Order, was certainly qualified to grant. If the Rule of the Order had not forbidden talking at meals, Torquil might have been tempted to make a few casual inquiries as to his mentor's whereabouts. As it was, he was obliged to ponder the riddle in silence, amid the gentle drone of a scripture pa.s.sage being read from the pulpit above the hall.
Casting his gaze around the refectory, Torquil noted that Father Bertrand was likewise nowhere to be seen among the company at table. This discovery suggested that the summons from Brother Gaspar might have involved more than a mere confirmation of lists of lading-but surely nothing to be a cause for worry. Torquil knew that Arnault was privy to matters of great confidentiality concerning the Order-matters that were really no concern of a relatively junior knight such as himself, regardless of the confidence Arnault had always shown in him personally.
At the conclusion of the meal, the brothers rose collectively and began making their way toward the chapel, as custom dictated. Torquil dutifully joined in the a.s.sembly, but found it hard to keep his attention focused on his devotions. Twice he lost track of his tally of paternosters and had to begin again. He was relieved when the communal prayers came to an end, leaving the brethren free to disperse.
Arnault was waiting in the shadows when his protg emerged from the chapel. As Torquil moved past him, he reached out and laid a sinewy hand on the younger man's shoulder. Torquil started round, his own right hand flying to the hilt of his sword. Arnault stepped back a pace.
”Pax! It's only me!” he exclaimed softly.
Torquil relaxed, lightly shaking his head. ”Sweet Jesu, you startled me. Was there some problem?”
”We had a great deal to discuss,” Arnault said cryptically. He cast a look around them and, seeing no one else within earshot, continued in a lower voice. ”Have you been detailed to any particular duties just now?”
”No, why?”
”I have a rather particular a.s.signment for you, if you're willing.”
A note of calculation showed briefly in Torquil's eyes. ”What kind of a.s.signment did you have in mind?”
”An item of sentry duty,” Arnault said. ”Brother Gaspar and I have one remaining piece of business to resolve. Father Bertrand will be present. For the moment, suffice it to say that completing this work will involve our doing something a trifle. unorthodox. It-would not go well with us if we were disturbed.”
”This sounds serious,” Torquil ventured.
”It is very serious,” Arnault said. ”The very future of the Order is at stake-and with it, the future welfare of generations yet to come. I mayn't give you any of the details, other than to pledge you my solemn word that we intend nothing blasphemous or irreverent. Nevertheless, there are some, including our esteemed Grand Master, who would condemn our actions. Discovery could mean expulsion from the Order-or worse. I will not think any less of you if you decide that you prefer not to get involved.”
Torquil inclined his head cautiously. ”You would not ask this if it were not important,” he said quietly.
”Nor have I ever known any ill to come of taking instruction from you. What is it you wish me to do?”
Arnault smiled faintly. ”Good man! I regret that I cannot give you a fuller explanation just now. But if you keep faith with me, I promise you that one day, all shall be revealed.”
Beckoning Torquil to follow him, he set out across the courtyard that separated the chapel from the barracks. From there, the two men made their way along the exercise green toward the square, thick-walled keep that dominated the west corner of the preceptory enceinte. The serjeants posted at the entry port admitted them without demur when Arnault delivered the watchword. Once beyond the guardroom, he and Torquil set out for the west tower.
Skirting the gallery overlooking the great hall, they descended a steep flight of steps leading to a narrow pa.s.sageway. A door at the far end of the pa.s.sageway admitted them to a square office chamber dominated by a heavy oak table with a door behind it. Writing at the table was a big-boned man with chestnut hair and gray-streaked beard who set aside his quill as the pair entered: Gaspar des Macquelines himself. Torquil did not know him well, but he had met the treasurer before their flight from Acre.
Rising, Gaspar greeted Arnault with a warmth that dispensed with distinctions in rank. When Torquil advanced to pay his respects in turn, the older knight subjected him to keen scrutiny.
”Our brother gives you the tongue of good report,” he observed with a faint smile, then turned to Arnault.
”Does he understand what is required of him?”
”In general, yes. And he is prepared to trust us,” Arnault replied.